


"You can stay at my place, if you like."

by done-with-ur-ineffable-bullshit (Gotta_Get_That_PMA)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Switching, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotta_Get_That_PMA/pseuds/done-with-ur-ineffable-bullshit
Summary: After stopping the apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale go back to Crowley's flat to get some rest and plan for the coming retribution from head offices.But before they do, there's something Aziraphale needs Crowley to know.Chapter order is Confession > Smut > Aftercare.





	1. You Daft Angel!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you like it, please leave a comment, kudos, etc. As always, constructive criticism is welcome. If you didn't like it, why? How's my pacing? Any suggestions?  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale worries too much and Crowley has tight trousers on.  
>  _Confession_ > Smut > Aftercare

As they got on the bus, Crowley was slightly surprised when Aziraphale sat next to him, rather than in the seat in front of him. After six millennia of keeping their professional distance, it was nice to see his friend showing open affection.

Aziraphale turned to him and opened his mouth to speak, paused, and began again. "Thank you," he said, "For the offer of staying at your flat. I'm not sure I could stand to see my bookshop just yet."

Demons, strictly speaking, are not supposed to feel the troublesome human emotions of empathy, or pity, or love. But Crowley knew he had never been a very good demon. Aziraphale's entire earthly life's work had gone up in flames.

"Well," he said, bobbing his head thoughtfully from side to side, "We may not be able to replace what was lost, but we'll rebuild. Just as soon as the whole mess with our respective head offices gets cleaned up. For now let's--"

"We?"

"Sorry?"

"You said 'we' will rebuild."

"Of course! We've been best friends for six thousand years, Angel. Now that there's nobody to tell us not to be, I don't see why we have to pretend we're not." Crowley's own conviction surprised him, but only a little. He remembered earlier that day, on his knees as he said goodbye to Aziraphale.

> _“We are_ fucked!”
> 
> _"Come up with something! Or..." the angel raised his sword, and for the first time since they had known one another, Crowley had wondered if he was going to be struck. Fear, but more importantly shock, had run cold through him._
> 
> _Then it happened._
> 
> _Aziraphale's expression softened, and he lowered the sword. "Or I'll never talk to you again."_

The realization, and admittedly the threat, had hit Crowley like Falling all over again. The angel loved him. All that mother-henning and righteous indignation at Crowley’s self-destructive habits had really been little confessions of love.

As it was, Aziraphale smiled warmly at him and blushed, “I appreciate that, Crowley, truly I do. I always knew you were nice.”

A low hiss rose from his throat and he rolled his eyes, something he didn’t actually need to show his eyes to express. “Watch it or I’ll change my mind.” Inwardly, he was resisting the urge to put his arm around Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was still smiling.

* * *

“Here we are. Home sweet home,” Crowley positively sashayed through the door into his gloomy flat.

Not for the first time, Aziraphale blushed at the sight of that serpentine walk. Of course he knew about physical attraction. It was considered holy within the bounds of matrimony, and sinful if a broken vow was involved, but otherwise it simply was; humans were, more or less, animals, after all. Still, all of the memorization of soul policy hadn’t prepared him to feel like he did when he happened to, in spite of himself, check out Crowley’s lanky form[1].

But it was more than that, wasn’t it? If Aziraphale never got to touch Crowley for the rest of eternity, there was still something he needed the soft-hearted demon to know. Something ineffable.

Crowley glanced back and noticed Aziraphale staring into the distance and wringing his hands. “You alright, Angel?”

“Yes, I… Crowley, there’s something I wanted to tell you. In case--in case something happens to either of us.”

Crowley was silent. His face was uncharacteristically blank. He had taken his glasses off upon entering the flat, but the yellow serpent eyes offered no insight to his thoughts.

“When we met, in the garden, I never imagined... and then in the church, I... Well, the point is...” Aziraphale dithered, unsure how to actually begin. Crowley took a step toward him, and the angel burst out, “Crowley, I think you already know, but I love you.”

The demon’s expressionless face burst into laughter. “Of _course_ I know, you daft angel! If I couldn’t tell after all these millennia then I’d be one heaven of a bad friend. I’m a bit astonished it took you this long to say the actual words, for whatever they’re worth at this point.” He stepped forward and put his hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, smiling warmly--and maybe a little smugly--down at his angel.

Aziraphale felt the warmth from Crowley's smile spread to his insides. “You.. you love me too?”

An exasperated eyebrow raised, Crowley quipped, “I’d say don’t go ruining my reputation, but since I haven’t really got one anymore I suppose it’s safe to let you in on the secret. Course I love you, Angel.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale practically knocked Crowley over with the force of his hug, and they stayed that way for a few long minutes. Aziraphale reflected on Crowley's scent, which he knew well by now, but he'd never been so _buried_ in it. Petrichor and a hint of freshly cut grass, his natural scents, mixed with his chosen scents of wine and wood smoke. All in all, it was embarrassingly arousing to the angel.

When finally they pulled away slightly, Aziraphale looked up at his demon and smiled. He was rewarded with a kiss.

This was not Aziraphale’s first kiss. He had shared friendly kisses with people throughout history, and on a couple of occasions he had been kissed rather against his will by people he had then turned down. But none of those kisses had held the same emotional intensity as this. Six millennia of falling in love, of watching Crowley do decidedly undemonic acts of service for him... He found himself wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist. The demon’s lips were surprisingly soft, considering his body was all straight lines and angles. Aziraphale blushed when the thought of those angles caused his body to grow even warmer.

They parted for breath[2], and Crowley, still holding Aziraphale’s face in his hands, smiled and stroked his cheeks with both thumbs, yellow eyes shining. “I do love you, Aziraphale. Always have. From the moment I learned you gave away your sword, I was falling for you.”

They kissed again, and this time Crowley’s incredible tongue gently explored the angel’s mouth. Though they were both quite aroused[3], Aziraphale found the demon’s touch rather _nice_ , instead of obscene. If they played their cards right in the trial to come, they would have all of eternity to feel overcome with lust. Right now, they were overcome with love.

They broke once again, breathless. Speaking of lust....

“Angel,” Crowley said, curiously, “Have you ever... y’know...?”

“Ah, no,” he said, suddenly very self-conscious about the whole thing, “That isn’t to say I haven’t had offers. I just felt it was inappropriate to do so with humans. I was once a member of this lovely little gentleman’s club, though, and I learned a great many things....”

Aware he was rambling, the angel blushed. The hint of a smile played at Crowley’s mouth, and now that their suspicions about one another had been confirmed, Aziraphale realized what it meant: Crowley thought he was being _cute_.

“Do you want to?” Crowley’s eyebrows had come together to rise up hopefully.

“I... well, I’ve never... perhaps not just yet.” An irrational feeling of terror washed over Aziraphale. What if Crowley, who had just wilted slightly, got impatient and gave up?

“But I suppose,” he said hurriedly, “I wouldn’t mind having a lie down. Perhaps you could, er, change my mind?”

The demon grinned as he took his hand. “Getting into bed with a demon and expecting not to be taken advantage of? That’s a gamble, Angel. Does that mean you trust me?”

Aziraphale’s heart fluttered, and he was moved nearly to tears. “Without question.”

Crowley led his angel into the bedroom.


	2. Second Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley goes back and forth on his self-worth and Aziraphale is his mirror.
> 
> Confession > _Smut_ > Aftercare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this didn't actually go like I thought it would, but it worked out in the end. I think this is my first time writing a sex scene, so I welcome feedback.

The room, like the rest of Crowley’s flat, was all concrete and sleek fashion. The carpet on the floor was a plush wine-red, and the huge mattress was covered in soft, steel-grey blankets with more wine-colored sheets beneath. Of course, Crowley wasn’t thinking about the color of his sheets. He was busy staring at the gorgeous angel holding his hand, and he found himself suddenly and uncharacteristically self-conscious.

“I’m curious, Crowley,” said Aziraphale as they stood beside the bed, still holding hands, “How many times  _ have _ you... done it... before?”

In spite of himself, Crowley looked sheepish. “A handful of times. I never really enjoyed it, though. It was always to help fulfill orders, and... well, every time I did, I saw _your_ face. It didn’t seem right, Angel, it not being you. You’ve been there since the beginning.”

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale’s expression melted, and Crowley marveled.  _ He _ had done that.  _ His  _ existence had caused such pure beauty in the world as his angel’s expression of love. He had helped build nebulae and arrange constellations, but nothing compared to this. The traitorous thought entered the back of his mind that he might not be damned after all.

This time, Aziraphale kissed him.

The kiss was soft and full of love, and then Aziraphale opened his mouth and it was also full of something else. It didn't help that the angel was gently sliding Crowley's jacket off his shoulders. They needed to take it slowly, Crowley reminded himself. He felt as though a sudden move would send the angel running, because surely this was too good to be true. He helped Aziraphale out of his jacket in return, slowly, so the angel wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Was it the wrong idea? Crowley's pants were awfully tight. He was the one that had asked first. Maybe he should....  He broke the kiss off. "Aziraphale," he choked. That was all he could get out. He was one move away from bolting.

The angel frowned, "What's wrong, my dear? Are you all right?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask you to do this. Not with me. I'm damned, for Satan's sake. Even if we're on our own side now, there are lines I can't ask you to cross. I'm sorry, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale's face seemed to cycle rapidly through several emotions. Shocked, then frowning, then pensive, then another frown... Finally, he smiled. It was one of those radiant smiles where Crowley was sure he could see the righteous halo. It hurt to look at it now that he had--

A decidedly undemonic yelp escaped him as he was thrown into the bed with surprising ease. Damn, maybe Aziraphale had earned that flaming sword after all. The angel was quickly on top of Crowley, one knee between his legs (oh  _ Satan below _ it was brushing against his cock, he couldn't think). Aziraphale, looking happy and a bit smug, was propping himself up with one hand and deftly undoing the top button of the demon's shirt with the other.

"Aziraphale, what the  _ devil _ are you doing?"

"You're scared, Crowley, because you think you're not worthy…." Another button down. Crowley was trembling. "...And I was scared, too, because I had never done this before, and I didn't want to muck it up…."  The demon's shirt was halfway open now. He eyed Aziraphale's waistcoat but was too shocked to move. "But," the angel said, "Showing that I love you is far more important than being nervous over my first time, now, isn't it? It's not as if I could question 'with whom,' but simply a matter of 'when.' And I've decided that 'when' is now. There we are, dear, sit up for me, will you?"

Crowley squeaked some kind of affirmative noise, and then he was sitting up, pressed close to Aziraphale as his shirt was being removed. He wasn't used to this, he reflected as he cautiously returned the favor to Aziraphale's waistcoat. He had always been the one in charge, one way or another. Now here was his angel, waltzing in at Crowley's most fearful and vulnerable, pinning him to the bed and calling him "dear" as if it were Sunday tea.

Sitting up, he couldn’t help but notice, was allowing the whole length of his cock to brush against Aziraphale’s thigh. He thrust slightly and was pleased to see Aziraphale’s cock twitch against his trousers in response.

“Oh dear,” the angel twittered breathlessly, helping Crowley with his own shirt buttons. “So many layers!”

Crowley shrugged, smiling and kissing the chest hair peeking out above the neck of Aziraphale’s undershirt. He was still sitting, where Aziraphale was on his knees, so he had to look up to do it. Fitting, he thought, to gaze upward at such a beautiful being.

That gave him an idea.

Miracling Aziraphale’s trousers and pants off with a snap of his fingers, the demon watched that gorgeous cock bounce free. It was shorter, thicker, and cut. Just perfect. Crowley stroked it lightly with one hand, teasing. A few minor miracles would ensure they didn’t need lube tonight. He looked up to see Aziraphale blushing.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” he asked, “I… I know this body isn’t the best…”

“Angel, you’re the most beautiful thing in the worlds to me. Without you, this world wouldn’t be worth living in.” With that, before his angel could argue, Crowley put his mouth over Aziraphale’s cock.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale keened, not bothering to keep the noise down. His fingers wound into the demon’s dark red hair.

Crowley smiled, as well as he could anyway, and thought he could handle listening to  _ that  _ celestial harmony any day. His tongue worked against the soft underside of the head and, on one occasion, did a trick human tongues could not accomplish. He cupped the angel’s perfect balls in one hand and suppressed his gag reflex for a couple more tricks humans couldn’t do. Well, most of them, anyway.

It wasn’t long before Aziraphale tugged backward on Crowley’s hair and whimpered, “Please... I’m going to…”

Crowley released the angel’s cock with a cheeky, wet pop and tugged on his hips, leaning back. “Come here, Aziraphale, and let me show you how much I love you.”

Aziraphale obliged, on his knees, straddling Crowley. They scooted up until Crowley was propped up on the pillows and Aziraphale could brace his hands against the headboard.

“You-- you’re still wearing trousers,” stuttered the angel.

Crowley pouted, then snapped his fingers and the leather trousers and pants were gone.

Aziraphale looked the slightest bit disappointed--he quite liked the leather trousers--but then he looked down at Crowley’s cock. It was large and uncut and pretty perfect as cocks went, if Crowley did say so himself. Comically, the angel looked back up at his demon with wide eyes. Crowley grinned.

“Don’t worry, Angel, I’ll be gentle. Come here and kiss me.”

Aziraphale did. Their kisses were hot and passionate and most of all, loving. They both moaned when Crowley lined the head of his cock up with the angel’s tight opening and slid it in, with the help of another minor miracle.

It didn’t take Aziraphale long to figure out what he wanted, and before long they were going at a steady rhythm. Crowley alternated between exploring his angel’s body and gripping the sheets, the pillows, anything he could reach.  _ God and Satan _ , it felt so good. Aziraphale was hot and tight and making so many delicious, high-pitched noises. His fingers had found Crowley's nipples, making him buck even harder.

Realizing he was about to come, Crowley grabbed the angel and flipped him onto his back, following him down. He moved one hand between them to stroke Aziraphale’s cock. It was perfect, how his narrow, serpentine hips fit between Aziraphale’s thighs. They were made for each other, two halves of a whole. With his angel, the demon found balance, redemption,  _ home _ .

Aziraphale came and tightened around Crowley, and the sensation hit him all at once. It was one of those handful-in-a-lifetime orgasms that takes over the entire body and lasts longer than an orgasm probably should. Crowley blacked out, but, much to his later embarrassment, he was pretty sure he screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> 1At some point in history (Aziraphale couldn’t remember when, but it was, in fact, Ancient Greece, where clothing was quite optional) he had decided to have a physical sex in order to blend in. He sometimes regretted that decision, but when he looked at Crowley, he remembered it had its advantages.
> 
> 2Neither of them actually needed to breathe; it was simply such a habit by now that they did it anyway.
> 
> 3Crowley’s super stylish, tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. It had occurred to him years before that this was an excellent way of showing off to humans, and when he caught Aziraphale glancing at it when he thought no one was looking, well, that was a plus, too.


End file.
